


Tattoo on my Heart

by gerapitico



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, a little bit super sad, also krisho if you squint, and i guess baekyeol if you want it to be, mature for the cursing and the death, mostly exo-k though, the violence is mostly off screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:46:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerapitico/pseuds/gerapitico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have you ever felt like giving up on a day? Because that day, I did."</p><p>or, the spy au, loosely based on this: http://theloveinlifex.tumblr.com/post/109384890373/what-have-you-done</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoo on my Heart

Have you ever felt like giving up on a day? Because that day, I did.

It all started with a ball in a playground. I was five, and it was the first day of kindergarten. While a distinctly large section of the class ran in circles around a dirt field chasing a soccer ball, I was in the sandpit, building a castle, complete with moat that I was carefully filling. That was completely destroyed by the soccer ball.

One of the other boys, Jongdae, shouted an apology behind his back while running back towards the field.

I huffed, and assessed the situation. One half of the castle was completely smashed, and the moat was pouring into the basement of the structure, ruining it from within.

“Maybe I can help!” said a boy behind me. I looked up into massive brown eyes in a heart shaped face, as his small hands began to push up sand into edge of the castle, an embankment against the tide.

As I joined him, an instant friendship was born. Luhan was everything I was not. Loud, happy, outgoing and cute. Oh god cute.

He charmed our teachers all through grade school, and quickly made friends with everyone else. My friend group went from 1 to the entire school as he drug me various sleepovers and birthdays, at least one a week. My mom found it hilarious that my best friend was my opposite, and I was his accomplice through middle school and well into high school.

He also got me interested in music. He was an amazing singer, and he helped me discover my passion for dance, an escape from the monotony of school. When we were still little, we would perform for our parents and neighbors, always to cheers.

In middle school, when I came out to the world, Luhan was the first to stand by me. He took me out to dinner and spent the whole time talking about who I should ask out. Yixing came to me the next day and shyly asked if we could be friends, as the only other gay guy in the school, which left me so surprised that it took me a week to convince him that my shock was not because I didn’t like him.

At the beginning of high school, Luhan and I became a power couple who destroyed at all the events. We were the first ever pair of prom kings, much to my embarrassment and Luhan’s pride. But, when he smiled up at me under those lights, my heart melted, and I couldn’t help but love him.

At graduation, we were on the verge of breaking up as we went our separate ways to colleges halfway across the country from each other.

“It’s not for forever. I still love you.”

“We should talk in twenty years, when both of us are married and have hundreds of adopted kids.”

“Sehun, please. Talk to me.”

The last time I saw him for 8 years, and the last time for everyone else, was the day after graduation, at sunrise, after staying up all night partying on the beach. I pressed my hand into sand, and our pinkies intertwined, like they had so many times before.

The dawn came and Luhan was quiet for once. His last words to me were “Live Sehun. Don’t let this stop you, ever.”

Maybe that is why I am where I am today.

 

My second year in college, I was tapped for a secret society on campus for those with ‘potential’. I never really knew what they meant. That society then allowed me to be tapped up again, to a secret secret society, where ‘potential’ meant something entirely different. By that point, there were 6 of us total, all incredibly skilled at something. Jongin was an athlete, track and field, top in the state. Baekhyun and Chanyeol were actors, both holding top roles whenever available. Kyungsoo was a minor genius, and an engineering prodigy, and also slightly incredibly cunning, to the point of being a mastermind. Joonmyun was a resource man. He knew where everything on campus was, from personnel files, to old tests and solutions.

I was the odd man out. I could tell, and Kyungsoo had figured it out quickly. We were a group designed with a purpose. And when the CIA finally gave us clearance, it made sense.

Jongin was a get-away guy. His athletic build had nothing to do with his place in the group, his car collection was far more important. It had taken 5 months before he even let me near the collection, and another year before I sat in his Ferrari. The way his cars moved for him was like a work of art. In his favorite, a matte black Impreza, he could do donuts too small to stand in, and parallel park out of a hand brake turn.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol were the duo from hell, theater actors who were given the reins to make their own characters. It was like the CIA had found the perfect grifters and all they had to do was tell them they were free to do whatever they wanted to do. They can throw their voices across the room, hell they can throw anyone’s voice across a room, creating the worst power, and the best trolling, followed by their laughter as they ran to hide from the inevitable punishment.

Kyungsoo was a planner.  He could get people in and out of any building from a distance, and he was the only one who could control Baek and Yeol with a glance, and the only one that Jongin would listen to. He was like the animal whisperer in a room full of exotic species, simultaneously able to pull information out of Joonmyeon while making everyone else pay attention.

Joonmyeon was in control of information. His laptop had more power than the old campus super computer, and worked faster. On our first case, we used none of the CIA’s research, because we knew that Joonmyeon’s would be better, and that the CIA wouldn’t have as much. That, and he was way sweeter about it, and he bakes delicious cookies for after the missions.

But then there was me. It took all of us the better part of a month to figure it out. I can dance, creating beauty out of motion. I’m also a martial artist, but no one ever knew that, because it was my secret. At least I thought no one knew. My only clue was all of my legal carry laws. My dad was a hunter, and he taught me from when I was little. That combination left me no choice, so I had all the licenses as soon as I could, along with Luhan, who thought it was hilarious to be both gay and good with a gun.

I am the contract killer. An assassin. But I’m also the infiltration specialist, because I am the most flexible, and the quietest.

Our first assignment, I was given a handler outside of our team. His codename was Ace, and I never learned anything else about him, except that when his team called him, he giggled as one of them called him maknae, and another told him to stop dancing around or they’d send in Minho with guns blazing.

Ace was a dancer, and he taught me how to shoot a gun at a man. He wiped my face when I threw up after my first kill, and pushed me through my fifth. He was lithe and graceful and deadly. He showed me his tattoos, one per kill, and it was beautiful and horrible. The first was massive, half of his arm covered in the image of a phoenix. The last one was a tick mark, next to 15 others, all small, on the inside of his ankle.

Mine are all stars. My kills that is. A slowly expanding constellation across my back that my members no longer ask me about. They know they won’t get an answer.

20 cases in and our team was spotless. Fewest casualties, fewest failures (because we did have our failures). We were the top team (except maybe Ace’s, but they don’t count, they are legends). That’s when fate intervened, and I saw Luhan walking across the street in front of me on a day off. Two cups of coffee later, and it was like we had never been apart.

He asked about my life, and I gave him the cover story: boring bureaucrat in a boring government job. He told me about his job at a recording studio, where he trained artists to sing, so that he could continue singing as a profession, a cover story that I never suspected. He named some artist he had just worked with, and if I paid any attention to music anymore, I would have recognized him. We promised to meet again, and parted ways.

The next time he called me, he caught me right as I was about to sneak into a house. Luckily, Baek and Chan had the owner eating out of their hands, and they were glad to test their chops and get me a little more time. So I had Joonmyeon transfer the call to my gear, and answered.

“Luhan, this really isn’t a good time.”

“Double date. Tomorrow night. You, me and two of my hot as fuck coworkers.”

“Luhan.” I whinned.

“Come on Sehun, live a little!”

My heart ached at the words, but I agreed. The date was honestly fun, and I got a decent relationship out of it with Tao, who was incredibly vain, but also kind and loving and for all intents and purposes, a perfect guy for me. It wasn’t his fault that I still wasn’t over Luhan, and we dated for a year before mutually breaking it off for a platonic friendship that continues to this day.

Luhan and I continued to meet up once a week after that, catching up, and gossiping about old friends. How Jongdae had finally caught his big break, or how Minseok had fallen for the prettiest girl at his new job, essentially following her like a lovesick puppy.

Now I realize that this has been the history lesson from hell, and that no one cares about any of this anymore, and I don’t even remember where this story started, but without the background, you won't understand what's happening now. No one will get why I’m so damn sad today.

Because 6 months ago, I got my new target, a kill if possible target. And it was Luhan.

When Kyungsoo gave me the news, I thought I had misheard him.

“The new target is Luhan, of Atlantic Records. Joonmyeon, tell us more.”

As Joonmyeon gave his normal work up, I froze, inside and out. I couldn’t process what was happening; let alone what I was supposed to do. I knew Luhan was a bad guy, Joonmyeon had carefully walked me through all the facts the day after. The guns trade and the prostitution ring all disguised under the label’s various tours. It was horrible, and his charms and looks had made him the perfect disciple. Wish I could have killed the leader instead, but that went to Ace.

And I just want to say, I’m sorry Luhan. I’m sorry that it was me, and I’m sorry that I got tangled up in this, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you about the constellation on my back, or why underneath it is your favorite poem, or why I wear a ring on a chain around my neck, even in the field.

I’m sorry that today is your birthday, but you aren’t getting one year older. I’m sorry that I did my job, and that it cost you. But most of all, I’m sorry that I never got to tell you how I felt. How I still feel today.

I spent the next week after the news in autopilot, as Luhan was cased, as Joonmyeon dug up his past and spread it around for our present. It took them that whole week to make the connection, the connection between me and Luhan. When they did, they came in rounds, trying to make it better. I ignored all of them, and told them to do their jobs, just like I would. I lived in denial.

When we finally began the mission, I did what had to be done. I became the monster that Ace had trained, controlled only by the situation and the objective. And maybe a voice in my ear as well.

When I made it to his room, I didn’t falter. I didn’t notice the quiet sleeping man in the bed, his doe eyes hidden in sleep and hair, only the laptop next to him. At least, not until I heard Joonmyeon’s voice over the comms.

“It’s him Sehun. You have to do it now.”

“I got you the computer Joonmyeon, just shut up and let me do my job.”

“You have to end it Sehun. We all know it. I’ll call in Ace if I have to, and you know that team hates being woken up.”

“Damnit Joonmyeon, I know.” I shouted, my words echoing in the tiny room. Luhan didn’t even flinch, the heavy sleeper he was.

My mind was cold and empty as I aimed the gun. I knew what I was doing. When I am in the field, it’s kill or be killed, and I had already spotted the revolver in the cracked drawer under the laptop. A revolver he was trained to use.

The quiet pop of the silencer was the last sound in the room.

“Mission complete.”

 

When I went to my tattoo place this time, I felt heavy. For the first time since the first kill, I wanted to throw up. I wanted to be dead. I wanted to yell at the universe, ask it why it was so cruel, why the man I had loved had to die by my hand.

The tattoo that day was different. We didn’t add a simple dot to the constellation. You were never that to me. You were the sky and the stars, the galaxy and the world. Your tattoo sits over my heart, a small inscription in the shape of a circle, never ending, just like you.

That day, I wanted to give up. I had lost my humanity, and I didn’t know where it had gone. You had taken it from this world, just as I had taken you. I don’t know if I have gotten it back, even today. Not all of it. But it keeps coming back, in small pieces. My members refused to give up on me, and every once in a while, when I break again, they help me. When I cry, Jongin holds me, rocking me softly while Kyungsoo sings a lullaby from the side of the bed. When I grow angry, Baek and Yeol make it their lifes mission to make me laugh, often by just bickering amongst themselves.

When I grow away into my own world, Joonmyeon comes for me with a story. The story of his one solo mission, before we were drafted. The story of how his handler died in his arms from his mistake. And he looks at me, a small smile on his face, as he tells me how much he misses him, how much he loved him. And we drink ourselves silly, only to find that tomorrow comes, and it is a new, brighter day.

Today is the anniversary of your death, and I want to say how sorry I am. I can’t believe that you aren’t here anymore. And I hate that I am the reason. I wish this ring was on your finger, instead of dangling from my neck. I wish neither of us had even gotten into this shitty world of intrigue and murder. I wish that the tattoo on my back wasn’t a death count. I wish that I could touch you, kiss you, just one last time.

That tattoo on my heart, by the way, reads as follows.

“Found by a boy, killed by a man.”

It’s for you Luhan. Hope you like it.


End file.
